


Lunacy

by crescentblood



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Background Flayn/Linhardt von Hevring, Bottom Ferdinand von Aegir, Cowgirl Position, Doggy Style, Fire Emblem Kink Meme, Humor, Loss of Control, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Morning After, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sex Pollen, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26164720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentblood/pseuds/crescentblood
Summary: Every three years or so, Garreg Mach Monastery is bathed in the light of the blue moon. One of the strange, inexplicable effects of this moonlight is the sudden onset of attraction between those who bear the same Crest.Seteth thinks he is adequately prepared for this issue. He is not prepared for Ferdinand von Aegir.Kink meme fill.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Seteth (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Lunacy

**Author's Note:**

> Response to a [kink meme prompt](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1608.html?thread=2659656#cmt2659656) requesting sudden attraction between bearers of the same Crest.

Von Aegir's ego would be the death of him.

The monastery had taken all due precautions with the advent of the blue moon; under Hanneman's guidance, schedules had been rewritten and classes organised so that bearers of the same Crest were always kept within a safe distance of each other. Lysithea had gathered all relevant study material and sequestered herself away so that she wouldn't run afoul of Catherine. Rhea too remained in her quarters so that she wouldn't encounter Edelgard, nor the cardinal that bore Seiros' Crest. And Seteth had personally seen to it that Lindhardt was, at any given time, at the exact opposite end of the monastery from where Flayn presided.

As for Seteth himself, he had cancelled a seminar with the Black Eagles so that he may keep his distance from the young Ferdinand. He couldn't say he was too pleased with Hanneman's approach to the whole issue- he hadn't missed the disappointment on the professor's face when Seteth had insisted that the safety of the students took precedence over whatever research Hanneman was itching to conduct. It certainly was easy for him to be so cavalier when the only student who shared his Crest never left her room in the first place.

_"This is a rare opportunity." Hanneman had insisted. "The next blue moon isn't estimated to be upon us until three years from now."_

_Seteth had shook his head. "Then that is plenty of time for you to find matching Crest bearers that would consent to such research. It is our duty, as teachers and as adults, to protect the students, not to utilise them as test subjects."_

_"The sooner we look into the matter, the sooner that we may discover a deterrent to the moon's effect. Wouldn't it be better for the safety of the students to isolate a case and analyse it as soon as possible?"_

Strictly speaking, Hanneman had a point, but Seteth couldn't shake the feeling that his concern for the students was facetious. Not maliciously so, but enough that Seteth didn't feel comfortable with entrusting them to the professor. In any case, it was only for a single night. Misplaced hormones were hardly the worst thing that he'd ever had to deal with in his lifetime.

Like any issue, however, the slightest little spanner in the cogs could send it spiralling out of control.

Seteth had been presumptuous and assumed that the hour was too late for any such disturbances. That thrice-cursed moon hung high in the sky, bathing his quarters in silken light. The time to retire to bed had passed, but Seteth had been kept awake by the oddities reported to him throughout the day. Mercedes had become flushed in the training hall, despite being the only apparent bearer of the Lamine Crest. Edelgard had suffered the same while being taught by Byleth. Hanneman had deciphered the new professor's Crest to be that of the Flame, but perhaps his initial judgement had been mistaken..? 

A firm knock on the door roused Seteth from his ruminations. A visitor, at this time of night? His first thought went to Flayn- she did not rest easy, and often took to wandering the monastery in spite of his many warnings. Perhaps something had happened. Perhaps... panic started to stir as Seteth remembered Linhardt and his disjointed circadian rhythm. What if the two night owls had crossed paths while he remain ignorant in his room? He could not forgive himself, nor that narcoleptic nuisance, if something undue had happened to his daughter.

He hastened to the door and flung it open. An entirely different sort of alarm emerged when he was greeted not with a petite woman, but instead a lean boy with hair that seemed to shine gold in the moonlight. "Ferdinand?!" He hissed, the air escaping too quickly and leaving him short of breath. "What are you doing? You can't be here-"

"Please, Seteth. We are surely both above the influence of some triannual phase of the moon."

Ferdinand's smile was self-assured even as a bead of sweat formed at his temple. Seteth's grip on the door tightened, Ferdinand's presence alone enough to make his body tremble. "I fear you have far underestimated its power. I don't know what you are trying to prove, but you need to turn around and leave immediately."

"I believe you are the one who is underestimating me." Then why, thought Seteth, was Ferdinand's breath now coming in slow, heavy bursts? Why did his fringe glisten with sweat as he swept it away with a shaky hand? Why did the sight of it all rob Seteth of his strength, until he could barely prop himself up by the door? "Just this morning the... the effect overcame Edelgard, and yet still she was able to complete her studies. If she can resist the t-temptation for so long, then it's only natural that I, that I too can..."

"So you are here due to some petty rivalry?!" Seteth fantasised briefly of wringing the boy's neck, only he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop his hands from dipping under the collar of Ferdinand's uniform and- he clapped his free hand over his mouth, aghast at his own imagination. His skin was ablaze with the flush that had blossomed across his cheeks and down his neck. His body was far outside of his control.

The door shuddered as Seteth attempted futilely to slam it shut, paralysed save for the tremors that wracked him. "Ferdinand..." he could barely stop himself from keening as the name rolled off his tongue like sweet honey. "Leave. Now."

Of course, Ferdinand did not. Instead he came closer, revealing himself to be in possession of a sheath of papers. Doubtless they were the excuse that he had conjured up to visit the archbishop's assistant at such a late hour. "You cannot ask me to run. A von Aegir ne- never-"

Ferdinand raised the papers as if to force them into Seteth's hand, but only managed instead to thrust them at his chest. They fluttered to the ground but Ferdinand's hand remained, clutching the dark fabric of Seteth's garment. His legs trembled beneath him as he looked up to Seteth from beneath his lashes, his eyes hazy with desire.

Seteth could still push him away; knock him out of the room and then slam the door shut before... before...

A second hand gripped onto Seteth's shoulder and Ferdinand stumbled forward until his breath warmed Seteth's chest. His amber eyes fluttered shut as he desperately whispered the man's name.

Escape was no longer an option after that. 

Their bodies crashed together and then into the door, slamming it shut with a thunderous clap that went unheard over the sound of their panting. Seteth laid claim to Ferdinand's lips, swallowing up those eager gasps, passing his tongue over the delicate pink flesh until it parted with a moan. He tilted his head and pressed in deeper, forcing Ferdinand flush against the wood as his mouth was ravaged with a long repressed passion.

Gloved fingers tangled their way into Seteth's hair and Ferdinand's legs wrapped themselves around his waist. Seteth gladly offered his aid, gripping the underside of those tautly thighs- a move Ferdinand seemed to enjoy as a tight shiver ran through his body. He shifted his own head so that he could kiss back, his tongue as clumsy and eager as the hand that fondled Seteth's chest. Ferdinand trailed it lower but, with his body trapped between flesh and wood, and his mind fogged with rapture, he couldn't undo the belt that held Seteth's surcoat in place. He whined when he realised, and Seteth felt it from the tip of his tongue all the way down to his loins.

They couldn't continue here. Seteth forced himself away, a thin line of saliva following his departure and dripping down Ferdinand's chin. The boy's warm skin was dusted the same pink as his swollen lips, and his half-lidded gaze begged Seteth to return into his embrace. It took what sparse control Seteth had left to ignore the temptation, and instead he readied his legs and hoisted Ferdinand away from the door.

Ferdinand's grip upon him tensed as, slowly, Seteth directed them towards his bed. The legs around his waist tightened until he felt a distinctive bulge press up against his own, and Seteth locked his knees so that the sudden burst of arousal didn't knock them both to the floor. Ferdinand seemed determined to fell him before he could reach their destination; the young man took to his neck with gusto, marking the skin with the searing heat of his tongue before he followed with his teeth. Every one of his nips brought out something between a breath and a moan from Seteth. A fire that had lain dormant within him for years was being stoked again, its layers of protection crumbling under the power of the moon.

Seteth did not like to think of himself as a weak man, but when it came to the sway of the lunar mistress, he was helpless.

In the end, Seteth only reached the bed by lengthening his stride and all but throwing Ferdinand atop the sheets. For a brief second he thought that the Crest's effect may weaken now that they had been separated, but that hope was quickly dashed. Ferdinand panted airily as he clutched at the linen cover, his cravat as askew as his limbs and his tousled hair framing his head like an ocherous halo. For all that he resembled an angel, the feelings he stirred within Seteth were anything but holy.

Nor were they something that he could resist. He kneeled down onto the bed, placing his hands either side of Ferdinand's head, trapping the slim body beneath his own. Ferdinand's arrogance from before had shattered: where once had been the drive to seek out danger in the dead of night, there was now only directionless want, a hunger for intimacy that burned in his blood as readily as it pulsed through Seteth's own veins. Ferdinand opened his mouth to speak and Seteth leaned in to trap the words with his tongue. He feared that whatever the indelicate von Aegir had to say would ruin the moment (and ruin it he _should_ want to do, but he _could_ and _would_ not), and more than that, there wasn't anything Ferdinand could say that his body- his pliant, writhing, _wanting_ body- wasn't already expressing for him.

The cravat came loose with a swift tug, and Seteth made short work of the uniform's bindings after. Ferdinand shrugged the jacket off, the muscles of his neck tensing as he moved one shoulder and then the next, and Seteth leaned down so he could claim that slim neck with his mouth. The skin was soft and smooth, as were the chorus of gasps that his hunger wrought out of Ferdinand. He continued worrying the flesh between his teeth as his hands trailed down the firm expanse of Ferdinand's chest, seeking out the buttons that held his shirt together and undoing them one by one.

In turn, he felt his belt come loose as Ferdinand was successful this time in unravelling it, and then that same eagerness was plucking at the buttons of Seteth's surcoat. He tugged apart Ferdinand's shirt and then shed off his own garment, freeing himself from the heaviness of his robe and cape, his chest and arms glistening with sweat where the fabric had clung to them. Seteth's undershirt was next, and he felt a ravenous gaze on him as his flushed skin was revealed. He was neither supple nor smooth- if Ferdinand was a growing blossom then he was a wizened oak, weathered and shaped by many, many years- but the glimmer in the young man's eyes told him not to be self-conscious about it. 

Whatever he was offering to Ferdinand, however, it could not hope to match what Ferdinand was offering to him. Illuminated by the glow of the temptress moon above, Ferdinand's golden skin and downy hair were almost ethereal. His open shirt framed the ever-developing muscle of his chest. Red marks already formed a trail up his neck, each with two bruising indents where canine teeth that were not quite human had sunk in. Seteth had lost sight of himself. If he were not more careful, then he may end up exposing that which he had spent so long trying to hide.

In that moment, however, as he stared into amber eyes that burned with lust, Seteth found that he didn't have the sagacity to care.

He knew what was to come next. Bathed as he was in lunar light, he lacked all modesty that would otherwise prevent such salacious acts from coming to pass. He at least had the sense to divert his attention to his bedstand first, removing the circlet nestled in his hair and then searching through the drawer for the lubricant that would be required. As much as it ashamed Seteth to admit it, even _he_ had needs from time to time, though such indulgences were as rare as... well, as rare as the blue moon above. The small bottle that he procured had rarely been opened, its contents still three-quarters full.

He saw movement from the corner of his eye, and a moan caught in his throat as warmth suddenly enveloped the sensitive skin of his teat. Ferdinand had not the strength to wait, and now his tongue was lavishing Seteth's nipple until he saw stars. From where had Ferdinand learnt to use his mouth with such... dexterity? Seteth could only hope that it hadn't been at the monastery, as dirty as he felt for the irony in that thought.

But Seteth could not abide being spoiled. He took Ferdinand by the wrists and forced him back down onto the bed, pinning his arms above his head. Ferdinand struggled in vain as Seteth breathed into the husk of his ear.

"Do not indulge me for my sin."

Then he took Ferdinand's earlobe into his mouth and sucked until he felt a tremor run through the skin. When he removed his grip, Ferdinand dutifully kept his arms in place, and Seteth moved down so that he could remove their slacks- an inaccurate name for them now, as the bulges they were both sporting had pulled the garments uncomfortably tight. It was almost a relief to be stripped of all fabric, both of them now naked save for Ferdinand's gloves and the open shirt that draped too beautifully across his body to be removed.

It had been a very long time since Seteth had slept with anyone that wasn't his wife. A long time since he had witnessed an erection that was not his own. Ferdinand's dick was much like the rest of his body, lean and smooth and complimented with a fine bush of ginger hair. Seteth ran a finger gently up its underside, savouring the breathless whine that it elicited. Ferdinand tried to buck into his grasp but Seteth pulled back.

"Wha... why did you..." It was the first Ferdinand had spoken since their lips had met. His voice was diluted, wavering from a lack of breath. Seteth thought, rather oddly in that moment, that von Aegir had the sort of voice that would lend itself well to song.

But back to his question, Seteth displayed the bottle that had grown warm in the crook of his hand. "Preparations..." he said simply, twisting its stopper and coating his hand with the oil. He caught a whiff of its almond-like scent as he placed the bottle away and made sure his fingers were thoroughly coated.

Though Ferdinand was practically thrumming with impatience, he spread his legs obligingly so that Seteth could get to his behind. Though he normally would've been slower, more careful, Seteth could not ignore the lust that roiled within him like a starving beast. Nor could he turn away from Ferdinand's pleading eyes, his quivering legs, and his hands balling up the pillow that his head rested on. He couldn't portray his want any more obviously, even if he yelled at the top of his lungs to get on with it. 

And so, once he'd found where the skin puckered, Seteth jammed his fingers inside of Ferdinand, forcing two of the digits up to their knuckles as Ferdinand keened loudly. His back arched off the bed and then slammed back into it with equal force. For a moment Seteth was alarmed, unsure if the reaction was due to pain or pleasure, but then Ferdinand bucked his hips so that Seteth's fingers sunk in deeper, and he mouthed something that could've been "Move" or could've been "More", but was undeniably laced with ecstasy.

Seteth was all too happy to oblige. He thrust his digits in until he couldn't anymore, then scoured them about until he felt the bundle of nerves that he recognised from his own body. Ferdinand's chest heaved and his head was thrown back, his muscles clenched impossibly tight around Seteth's knuckles. He waited until the tremor had run its course through Ferdinand's body, and his muscles had loosened again, before Seteth pulled himself back out, setting up a rapid rhythm that had the young von Aegir trembling where he lay.

(There was, perhaps, a part of Seteth that felt a little too good about the loud-mouthed noble being reduced to putty in his hands.)

Seteth inserted a third finger when he felt the entrance had been loosened enough, and at the same time wrapped his hand around Ferdinand's cock- which, up until that point, had been bobbing along to the thrusting in an almost hypnotic manner. He pushed his fingers in at the same time that he stroked the length from the tip down to the balls, and was rewarded with a stream of overstimulated gibberish. He didn't know if Ferdinand was naturally this sensitive or if it was the lunar body above that was driving him to such frenzy- judging by how his own erection was practically weeping from being untouched, Seteth suspected the latter. He continued to lavish Ferdinand's body, stimulating both cock and prostate until Ferdinand's whimpering reached a crescendo and, quite suddenly, his form went rigid and he spilled his seed all over his own stomach.

Though Seteth quite enjoyed the sight of Ferdinand losing himself, thrusting his hips aimlessly as the last dribbles of cum leaked out and over Seteth's pumping fist, he was surprised at the speed which Ferdinand had reached his limit. Many years had passed since Seteth had last been intimate, and he didn't think himself particularly talented with his hands. Perhaps, he concluded, it was another symptom of the blue moon.

...Did that also explain why Ferdinand's erection had yet to falter? Though every drop of semen had been rung out, Ferdinand's cock was still stiff and hot in Seteth's grasp. Almost as if he hadn't climaxed at all, but the strings of white spattered across his chest were more than enough proof of that.

So bizarre were these happenings that Seteth was almost shaken out of his lustful reverie. But then his hand was enveloped in white leather; Ferdinand stared at him through slitted, hazy eyes, his shaking hand desperately trying to force Seteth's fist down his cock once more.

"Don't stop..." he begged, his chest heaving from the effort to catch breath, his muscular legs quaking. "More, please... _more_..."

Well, Seteth couldn't say no to that. He pulled out his fingers, watching Ferdinand writhe against the covers as he stumbled over to the bottle again and dripped more oil into his hand. This time he applied it to his own cock, hissing between his teeth as the friction alone threatened to tip him over the edge. Long neglected were his desires, which just made them all the more potent.

He didn't bother to put the bottle back neatly, barely managing to get its lid back on before it tumbled over the edge of the bed. Seteth urged Ferdinand onto his front, allowing his head to continue resting against the pillow while his backside was pulled into the air. From this angle Seteth could appreciate the smooth curve of Ferdinand's ass; he massaged the skin, then slapped it lightly, repeating with more force when Ferdinand responded with an enthusiastic groan into the pillow.

Seteth might've liked to experiment more, see where Ferdinand's boundaries lay, but the time for foreplay had long passed. He brought himself up to his knees and guided his cock to Ferdinand's hole, freshly stretched and oiled. He heard a muffled whimper, and the part of him that delighted in taking Ferdinand down a peg was tempted to prolong the moment for as long as he was able- however, with his own cock aching dearly in his hand, he knew that neither of him could stand to wait any longer.

Again, he would've liked to proceed with caution, but as Seteth slowly pushed himself inside the rings of muscle, each layer clinging to his sensitive groin even harder than the last, it took every bit of his strength to not buck wildly into that waiting heat. Even through his self-imposed gag, Ferdinand was making all sorts of indescribable pants and moans, his arms quivering as he clutched the pillow like a lifeline.

Seteth pressed onward and pressed onward until he finally bottomed out, his balls flush against the ass that he'd been admiring just a second ago. He took a second to breathe, to wait for Ferdinand to unclench his muscles with a blissful sigh, and then he started to pull himself back out again.

His back-and-forth soon settled into a steady, pumping rhythm. He grasped Ferdinand by his hips so he could thrust in with greater balance and speed, effort that was rewarded with a breathless gasp and that intoxicating tightness around his erection once more. Each time he plowed deep enough that his hips slapped against Ferdinand's behind, he was rewarded with a new sound of ecstasy- every one of them seemed unique, becoming more desperate and bestial the more that Ferdinand was ravaged. Ferdinand turned his head after one such moan escaped, just enough for Seteth to see a single eye darkened by lust and rimmed with euphoric tears.

It wasn't long after that Seteth came. He'd been so distracted with Ferdinand- with his rapturous song and tight behind and silken skin and everything else that could not be quantified so easily- that Seteth hadn't noticed the panting from his own mouth, nor the heat that had gathered in his loins until it was exploding out all at once, filling Ferdinand's insides with cum as the two of them screamed and shuddered. His thrusts lost all pacing until he was bucking without reason, teasing out the very last drops of semen until his cock was finally stilled and he was no longer besieged with manic energy.

And yet.

Just like what had happened with Ferdinand before, Seteth's erection did not grow flaccid. The pool of lust within him was not sated- if anything it craved for more, so much _more_. Even worse, the desire was chipping away at the parts of Seteth that kept him calm and still and human. He shivered as his bestial self struggled within his mortal body, chafing away at its too-small prison. 

Seteth knew that he had to stop now. Cichol knew that he couldn't.

He returned his grip to Ferdinand's hips and plunged into him once more. Ferdinand's head shot up from the pillow, drool trailing from where his mouth had been pressed to it. His hands scrabbled for purchase, but it was not to pull himself away- no, as he found himself plundered again, Ferdinand steadied his body for it, a rapid stream of " _yes_ " and " _more_ " tumbling out in a breathless pitch. Whatever Seteth had to give, Ferdinand would take it and more.

But though their desire was limitless, their bodies' stamina was not so. Seteth didn't know how long had passed from when Ferdinand had first entered the room. The moon hung lower in the sky, indicating a few hours at least, but it wasn't possible that they'd been rutting together for that long. But his limbs burned with exertion, and his lower half ached for rest, and the covers were a sticky mess from where Ferdinand had come over and over and over again. Seteth pushed into him one last time, his already slippery insides coated once again in seed, and then he was forced to withdraw and tumble down next to Ferdinand.

That _had_ to be the end of it. There was not a single ounce of strength left in Seteth's body. What he had not accounted for was that the same did not apply to his companion- it was poetic in a way, that the night would start and end with him underestimating Ferdinand's brashness.

Because, as Seteth laid limp as a doll and caught his breath, Ferdinand struggled up to his knees. The lust that had possessed him was no longer as all-encompassing, but still his eyes were lidded as he swung a leg over Seteth's waist. His breath came in exhausted spurts, and his body was slick with sweat and seed, but he barely seemed to pay it mind. All that he focused on was his slackened behind, and Seteth's upright erection, and aligning one with the other.

Seteth did not have the strength to tell him to stop. He knew that, even if he could, he wouldn't.

Ferdinand lowered himself down, his back arching beautifully as he sheathed himself entirely. His splayed fingers found purchase on the heaving chest below as he put his powerful thighs to work, bringing his body up and then back down, fucking himself on Seteth's cock while the older man could do nothing but play witness to his performance.

He could not last as long, his body strained from being bent over and fucked for the majority of the night, but it still wasn't until the moon was cresting the horizon, and pink streaks were lightening up the dark sky, that Ferdinand too ran out of energy. He spent the very last dribbles of his seed over Seteth's stomach before he all but fell off the man, and then both of their emptied bodies were immediately, finally taken by a mighty slumber.

* * *

When Seteth awoke in the morning his mind was shrouded in fog, and every one of his muscles cried painfully when he moved. He was uncomfortably cold and even more uncomfortably naked, and there was a strange lingering smell that seemed to seep into his skin.

It went without saying, but this was not usually how his mornings started.

His last clear memory was of recounting the day's events at his desk. There were, quite obviously, some steps missing between then and now, and he dreaded to think of what they could be. He slid open an eye and squinted at the light that streamed in through the window. The sun was higher than it usually was when he awoke. Why, he couldn't remember the last time that he'd slept in, let alone due to such strange circumstances. 

But now was not the time for tardiness. Seteth groaned deeply as he attempted to prop himself up, his arms creaking like an unoiled hinge. Was his age finally catching up to him? He couldn't think of how else his body had grown so thoroughly exhausted. It wasn't as if he made a habit of intense exercise in the middle of the night...

When he was finally able to get himself up onto his elbows, Seteth quickly became aware of two important facts: his sheets were soiled with a dried-in white liquid, and there was another naked body asleep next to his. A young body, with ginger hair thrown into disarray.

Oh, by the sacred name of _Sothis_ -

Memories of last night started coming to him in spurts, each one leaving him more ashamed and red-faced than the last. He had- with a _student_ \- right through until _morning_! He would never, never have stooped to such debauchery if he had been in his right mind, but that did very little to reassure him. How could he possibly show his face to the church after this? To Rhea? To _Flayn_?!

The sleeping form next to him shifted, and Seteth was confronted with the reality that, before any of those horrendous scenarios, he would first have to overcome the altogether more awful hurdle of confronting Ferdinand about what had transpired. He simply wasn't prepared for it. He could do no more than gawk like a fool as Ferdinand rolled himself onto his back and slowly peeled open his eyes, narrowing at the sunlight like Seteth had done just moments before. 

He stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, turned his gaze to where Seteth sat frozen, stared for a few seconds more, and then emitted a quiet wail like that of a slowly dying cat as he flung his arm over his face. He couldn't have reacted any more appropriately.

Fortunately, his helpless cry was able to spur Seteth into action. He could not reverse the events that had transpired; he could now only handle the consequences of them, as any responsible man should. And the first step to that was realising that they couldn't hold a much-needed conversation while they were both naked and coated in seed.

Seteth left Ferdinand to wallow a little more in his misery and went about collecting their clothes from last night, ignoring the various aches and pains of his body. He was much embarrassed to realise that a cursory search didn't turn up his underwear, so he scavenged a fresh pair from his drawers and then made a beeline for the small washroom that branched off from the bedroom. He put Ferdinand's clothes aside and dunked a towel into the basin that he used for washing his hands and face each morning. He could not clean himself properly without the aid of the bathhouse, but at least he could scrub off the worst of the semen and sweat that clung to him.

Once a facsimile of cleanliness had been reached, Seteth tugged on his underwear, undershirt, surcoat, and even his cape and boots for good measure. He really should've picked out some fresh clothes, but he had been too eager (and rightfully so) to strip away his indecency from last night. Next were Ferdinand's clothes, which he shook out and then folded into a neat pile. He lay a fresh towel next to the basin and then, after a deep breath, returned back to the main room with the clothes in hand.

Ferdinand had dug under the covers in his absence, though an arm was still thrown dramatically over his eyes. Seteth hesitated by the foot of the bed, unsure of how to proceed? Should he be gentle? Would that just make things even more awkward between them?

After a long moment of thought, Seteth proceeded with his usual terse demeanour. "Ferdinand," he said, grimacing at how the boy tensed at his name, "get up. You need to get cleaned and dressed."

An even longer moment passed. Seteth had been about to repeat himself when Ferdinand finally answered with a soft groan. "What does it matter if I continue to wallow in my own filth? My life is over."

...Alright, a little more histrionic than Seteth had been hoping for, but still not an unreasonable way to react. "It most certainly is not. I have gathered your clothes for you, and I also have a basin of water you can use to clean yourself. Please make use of it."

Ferdinand groaned again, seeming unwilling to move. Seteth did not want to force him, but they wouldn't get anywhere like this. He shifted the pile of clothes to one hand so he could take the corner of the bedcover with the other and snatch it away, exposing Ferdinand's body to the crisp morning air. The young man yelped, immediately trying to cover his privates with his hands. Seteth pointedly turned away, guilt rearing up even as he pulled the covers from the bed entirely.

"Please, Ferdinand, we shall both feel better after you have cleaned up."

It took a little more cajoling, but finally Ferdinand forced himself off of the bed, taking his clothes into the washroom and wincing with each step. Though Seteth was labouring under his own pains, he could only imagine how much worse it must've been for Ferdinand. Seteth did not have herbal remedies on hand, but perhaps he could procure some discreetly from Manuela. It was the very least he could do for the poor boy.

While Ferdinand washed himself up, Seteth set to work removing all traces of their sordid night together. He stripped the bed of its sheets, bundled them together with the covers, and then stowed them away in the corner. He could _not_ let any of the monks (or, Goddess forbid, Cyril) see the evidence of his sin, so he would have to sneak into the laundry room at some point to wash them himself. It had been many a moon since he'd last done such a task, but surely it could not be too difficult? 

Seteth searched around the bed once it was clear and found his underwear tucked down the side. He threw it in with the dirty sheets and then put away the lubricant that had rolled onto the floor. His circlet shone atop the bedstand, but he did not find himself worthy of it right now. He did, however, scrounge up a clean set of clothes to change into once he'd had a proper bath.

It was a fair while longer until Ferdinand returned to the room, looking remarkably more put together than when he had left. His clothes were on straight, his cravat properly folded, and streaks of his hair had been wetted so that they could be tamed back into place. The only sign of the night's misdeeds was the limp that carried Ferdinand forward, and the red bruise just poking up from his cravat that Seteth avoided looking at.

While he appeared composed, however, a gloom still clung to Ferdinand as he collapsed back down onto the bed. "To think that a nobleman like myself would succumb to such carnal desires; that he would _seduce_ a member of the church and bring him into bed like a lustful beast into its den!"

There were too many things wrong with that sentence, and Seteth did not have nearly enough energy to correct them.

"Surely my father will disown me. The monastery will throw me out into the streets, and the Empire won't accept me back after such a scandal! I will... yes, I will have to leave the continent. Create a new life for myself in Dagda, or perhaps even Almyra..."

"You are getting far ahead of yourself." Seteth interjected, though now he couldn't help but worry of the consequences on his own end.

"I was supposed to save myself until marriage!" Ferdinand buried his head in his hands- he wasn't wearing his gloves, Seteth noticed, spotting the white leather unfurling out of his pocket instead. "What half-decent bride or groom will take me now, now that my true nature as a- a- a _premarital seductress_ has been revealed?! I have... disgraced the noble name of von Aegir. Oh, forgive me father..."

Seteth felt like he was witnessing one of Manuela's old operas. He cleared his throat, tired of the melodramatics. "That is quite enough of that. For starters, there were unique circumstances that forced our hands. That infernal power that the blue moon holds over our Crests... Though it is true that you were the one to approach me, I must hold full responsibility for not enforcing the distance between us with more severity. As an important figure to the monastery, and a caretaker of its students, I have failed you. For that, you have my deepest apologies."

Ferdinand raised his head, opening his mouth as if to interrupt, but Seteth cut him off with a raise of his hand. "My words will mean nothing, however, if I do not take appropriate action. I shall be the one to handle the fallout of this mess: though my inhibitions were likewise affected, it was still upon me to stop our... _actions_ before they went too far. Moreover-"

There was a rapid knock on the door. Seteth's blood turned to ice: the knock was one he had memorised well over the past year, and he knew immediately whose voice would follow. "Good morning, brother! Are you awake in there?"

Seteth stared at the door in wild horror, as if it had just come to life and was coming to attack him. He would rather face that, honestly, than speak to his daughter after a night of mindless fornication. No, he simply could _not_ let her know of his actions. He snapped from the door to Ferdinand, still seated and oblivious to the terror that awaited them.

"Under the bed." Seteth ordered.

"What-?" Ferdinand blinked, perturbed by the sudden urgency. "Was that Flayn..?"

"Under the bed, now!" He stormed over, grabbed Ferdinand by the shoulders, and all but pulled him off the bed. Ferdinand yelped but was quick to follow the order after that, hustling down to his knees as Seteth hurried over to the door.

He glanced around the room before he allowed Flayn entry. Ferdinand was now out of sight. It was difficult to see the bed or the dirty covers from where Seteth stood, but it was not unknown for Flayn to skip into his room uninvited. He would have to brainstorm an excuse if that happened. But it would be even more suspicious if he kept her waiting, and so, after a quick pat down of his clothes and hair, Seteth pulled down the handle.

"Ah, there you are!" His daughter was radiant in the morning light. Quite literally; there seemed to be a glow about her, from her wide smile to her rosy cheeks. "Lady Rhea was quite perplexed when you did not show for the morning meeting. You are not unwell, I hope?"

"Good morning, Flayn. No, I have not fallen ill. I was..."

Flayn's head tilted, her large coils of hair swaying to one side as her nose scrunched up. "You say you are not ill, but you appear quite dishevelled! And there is an odd smell following you... please, do not try to hide it if your health has faltered."

He could feel the sweat gathering about his neck as he swallowed. There was not much he could've done about the musk in the room, but he had hoped that it wasn't pungent enough for her to pick up on. Fool on him for underestimating his daughter's keen nose. "I am fine, Flayn. Simply..."

Simply what? Her inquisitive eyes bore into his, searching out the lies that tumbled over his tongue. "Simply... recovering from... a disturbed sleep. Y-yes, my dreams last night were not pleasant, and I awoke in a cold sweat. It is likely for that same reason that I overslept. I was going to make my way to the bathhouse soon, so that I may clean up before meeting with Lady Rhea."

"An unpleasant dream?" Flayn continued to stare, sending Seteth's heart rate spiking. "Well, I do hope that you are feeling better now. Ah, I could go ahead of you and start to run a bath!"

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"Come now brother, you should let me be the one to spoil you from time to time."

Though it warmed his heart to see Flayn so eager, she was treading dangerously close to inappropriate behaviour for a 'little sister'. "I am sure that there are more appropriate uses of your time than looking after me. Speaking of, has your morning fared well? No disturbances due to the blue moon, I hope."

"Oh! Yes- I mean, no, no disturbances at all! N-Nothing to report, as the fellow out front would say, haha!" 

Had Seteth not been so wrapped up in his own panic, he would've realised that his daughter was lying through her teeth. He also may have deduced the reason for her rosy cheeks, and her stray hairs, and the uneven angle of her blouse.

As it was, though, both of their secrets remained that way. Flayn bid Seteth goodbye and left him to his devices. He forced the door shut as soon as it was appropriate, resting his head for a moment against its wood. For hundreds of years he had been keeping their identities a secret, but never had it caused him as much stress as this.

He collected himself and moved back over to the bed. Ferdinand had not emerged despite Flayn making her leave. Seteth got to his knees (very, very slowly got to his knees) and peeked under the gap. He couldn't help but sigh at the sight of the young von Aegir lying face-down, head buried in his arm once more. "Ferdinand..."

"Is this what my life shall amount to?" Ferdinand mumbled. "Hiding myself away from those that I once called friends?"

"Please come out from under my bed."

Seteth considered their options while Ferdinand dolefully emerged from the shadows. Though just moments ago he had been willing to bear all responsibility, he had not fully accounted for how heart-poundingly terrifying it would be to unveil the truth to his daughter. It'd be one thing if the church were to turn their back on him, but to see that same disappointment in Flayn's eyes? He would rather die.

And so, he considered another option. One that may benefit everyone involved. "Does anyone know that you visited my quarters last night?"

Ferdinand frowned at the unexpected question. "I did not tell anyone, nor do I recall passing anyone on the way here. The only person who should know is the clergyman that I requested the papers from."

That man would have no reason to believe that Ferdinand didn't return to his quarters after completing his delivery. "And if someone _were_ to notice that you were absent from your room, could you come up with a plausible explanation for where you were during the night?"

"I'm not sure why-"

"Listen, Ferdinand." Seteth crossed his arms, a newfound determination stirring in his heart. "It would be disastrous if the events of last night were to be discovered. Not just for the two of us, but for the reputation of the church and Empire. I am certain that both of us would rather avoid that if possible."

Ferdinand nodded his head eagerly, his demeanour not unlike that of the hounds that were frequently brought onto church grounds. "So, in order to avert that disaster, all we would have to do is... not tell anyone."

"...You mean... we would lie?"

"We would _keep a secret_." Yes, Seteth was well-versed in the art of secret-keeping. And wouldn't it be to Flayn's benefit and safety if her father's deviancy was never brought to light? Thinking of it that way, Seteth was more certain than ever that this was the correct choice.

Though Ferdinand had sounded scandalised at the prospect of lying, he too seemed to become more enamoured with the idea the longer that he thought about it. "A secret... yes, a harmless little confidence between the two of us. A-after all, it is of no import to the world as to what a man gets up to in his bedroom."

"Y-yes, I agree." He didn't, not really, but whatever would get Ferdinand to go along with him. "So... we are agreed. This little _incident_ would be better forgotten."

"Indeed. Forgotten and never, ever mentioned again." His vigour renewed, Ferdinand clambered up to his feet and outstretched a hand to shake. Seteth would rather not share physical contact when necessary, so their handshake was quick and terse.

"Well then. It would be best if you made your exit as quickly as possible. There will only be more people roaming the halls as the day goes on."

"Yes, of course." Ferdinand looked as if he wanted to say more but, in the end, only managed an awkward "Good day" before he was all but sprinting for the door. Seteth certainly wasn't going to slow down his exit. Once the mismatched footsteps had faded far down the hall, and he was sure that he was alone, he sighed deeply to himself and sat down heavily on the floor.

What a mess. He could hardly wait until he was submerged in a tub and forgetting the nightmare of the past twenty-four hours. Not like he could ever _truly_ forget. He would need something far stronger than a bath for that.

He rested his head against the wall, and pondered whether he would finally make a visit to the local tavern.

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title: Old Man Yells At Moon


End file.
